


The Best Thing About College Is...

by jackles67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 00:41:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackles67/pseuds/jackles67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is a college freshman, skipping the dorm scene and moving in with his brother and a couple of other guys to help pay rent. On their first night there, a misunderstanding between the Novaks (their new roommates) and Dean results in rising tension over the course of the semester. Meanwhile, Sam slowly gets to know his eccentric new roommate and Dean tries not to feel bad for Cas, who is clearly floundering under a mountain of schoolwork.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Thing About College Is...

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the [spnslashbigbang](spnslashbigbang.livejournal.com).
> 
> Please go check it out for some amazing fics and art :).

“Dude, just leave it. You can unpack tomorrow, let’s go!” Dean yells from the hallway. Sam sighs and drops the box of books back on his bed, covering the last free square of bare mattress. He knows they’re going to stumble in drunk and he’s going to have to dump everything on the floor, where there’s no room either -seriously, how does he have this much crap- just so he can sleep on a soft surface. He’d settle for the couch, but he’s never met their new housemates and he doesn’t really want to make a bad impression.

“Sam!”

Sam grabs his phone and heads out the door, joining Dean to lock up their small, empty house and walk the four blocks to the party. Dean says the guys they’re living with might be there, but since neither of them know what the Novaks look like, they probably won’t officially meet them.

“They’re cool, though, right?” Sam asks for what has to be the hundredth time, he knows, but he can’t seem to stop himself. He doesn’t want to live with a bunch of assholes; one sometimes-asshole brother is enough.

“Sure. I mean, Michael was kind of a dick, but I don’t think his brothers will be. And we all have our own rooms, so if they’re total douchebags you can just lock yourself up and study. Like in high school,” Dean finishes with a grin and a clap on Sam’s shoulder.

“Fuck you, I had a life,” Sam counters, but it’s only sort of true. He had a of couple friends, but he did spend a lot of time in his room. He’s out tonight, though, and ready to experience his first college party. 

When they arrive, Dean spots some friends of his and leads Sam over. Dean’s friends immediately hand them some beer, and Sam, forever awkward about being Dean’s little brother, downs his in one gulp. He does the same with the next, and the next, and suddenly everyone seems so much friendlier, and nothing is awkward at all. 

Dean is deep in a serious discussion with some girl about a class they’re both going to take, and Sam can’t seem to follow the engineer-talk so he turns to find a bathroom. He finds a shot instead, and then gets roped into taking two more before he finally finds the bathroom. There’s a line, but Sam’s happy to wait, the warmth from the shots buzzing through his veins making him grin at anyone who catches his eye.

When he comes out of the bathroom he scans the room, but Dean’s nowhere to be found. His gaze lands on a pair of mischievous brown eyes staring straight at him, and he can’t help grinning back. The guy motions him over and Sam wanders through the strangely tilting room to lean heavily against the wall, gaze still fixed on the shorter man before him.

“Gabriel,” the guy says, his hand outstretched. Sam grabs for it and almost falls forward, Gabriel grabbing him just in time. “Whoa there, okay, let’s get you sitting down, big guy.”

Sam giggles at that and allows himself to be led over to a couch where he collapses, dragging the smaller man down with him. Gabriel untangles himself to sit beside Sam, watching with mild amusement as Sam calms his fit of laughter and lolls his head to meet Gabriel’s eyes.

“You here with someone?” Gabriel asks, and Sam nods emphatically.

“Dean. ‘Cept I don’t know where he went. He was just here, and now he’s... not here. Maybe he left,” Sam says, brow furrowing in concentration as he tries to decide if that’s plausible.

“And Dean’s your....?” Gabriel asks.

“Brother. I’m Sam, by the way.” Sam says, realizing he hadn’t introduced himself. He tacks on another wide grin, and Gabriel’s mouth twitches in response before his eyes widen.

“Wait, Sam and Dean? Winchester?”

Sam nods, confused. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t told this guy his last name yet.

“I’m your housemate! Well, me and my brother, Castiel.”

Sam beams and sits up, about to suggest they toast to their upcoming year of cohabitation. The world seems to tilt horribly and when he shakes his head to right it, everything starts to spin. He groans, leaning sideways, and topples into Gabriel.

“Okay, let’s get you home. Come on, up.” Gabriel hauls him up and throws one of Sam’s arms around his shoulders, wrapping his own arm around Sam’s waist and guiding him out of the room. Sam closes his eyes and allows himself to be manhandled away, sparing a brief thought to Dean, before figuring Dean probably already went home or something.

***

Dean’s looked for Sam a few times in the night, just quick scans to make sure he was alright. He saw him taking a shot, waiting in line for the bathroom, then talking to some guy. He noticed when they sat on the couch and is just about to casually wander over to make his presence known -and maybe scare the guy off a little- when Jo saunters up with another beer for him.

“Winchester! When’re you coming back to work?” She asks, punching him in the shoulder, and really, no one’s greetings should leave bruises. Dean is distracted, and the next time he glances over at the couch, it’s empty. Dean throws a quick look around the room and sees a guy who looks like Sam half wrapped around a shorter dude with brown hair. Dean quickly recognizes Sam’s shirt and narrows his eyes at the arm around Sam’s waist, but then they’re ducking out the door and Dean’s halfway across the room before his friends have time to call out. Dean runs straight into some huge guy, knocking both of their drinks out of their hands, and spends the next precious minutes explaining that no, he does not want to take this outside, and yes, he is very sorry, and that drinks are free at this party so it doesn’t make sense to replace the guy’s beer. By the time he makes it outside, Sam’s gone and Dean’s cursing himself as he pulls out his cell phone and dials Sam’s number.

“Goddammit Sam I swear to God if you don’t pick up your phone,” he growls into Sam’s voicemail. He leaves another couple of messages before texting Jo to tell her he’s leaving and walking home. He knows Sam doesn’t have a key yet, they haven’t had a chance to make him one, so the odds of him being there aren’t great, but it doesn’t stop him from checking. Sam’s room is empty. Dean kicks a few boxes in his own room before collapsing on his bed, telling himself he’s going to wait for Sam to come home. He waits at least an hour, he thinks, before kicking off his shoes and allowing his heavy eyelids to drop.

***

Sam wakes up sweaty and nauseous. His skull feels like there’s rusty fork scraping around the inside and his mouth tastes like something died in there. He’s too hot and he’s plastered against something, something warm and a little sticky and definitely breathing. Sam slowly unsticks his face and looks up to see honey brown eyes on him.

“Oh...” Sam says, before covering his mouth. He’s going to be sick. He’s definitely going to be sick, and it’s one thing to drunkenly crash on your new housemate’s bed -on your new housemate, period- and another to throw up on him. 

Sam lurches out of the bed and stumbles into the hallway, barely making it to the bathroom to fall to his knees in front of the toilet. He doesn’t notice Dean in the kitchen, with a full view of the entire scenario, until he’s already flushed and brushed his teeth. Fuck. He left Dean at the party. Sam quickly comes out to apologize, only to almost run into Gabriel, who’s stumbling out of his own room in boxers and a tee shirt, hair sticking up at every angle, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He doesn’t even see Dean coming, but Sam does.

“Dean!” Sam yells, as Dean slams Gabriel back against the wall and holds a forearm to his throat.

“Shut up, Sammy. What the fuck are you doing, picking up a kid when he’s that drunk?” Dean demands, pressing hard, cutting off Gabriel’s air flow.

"Dean, stop, Jesus nnggg," Sam's cut off as his stomach protests and he stumbles back to the bathroom. When he finally rests his forehead against the tile, he can hear Dean continuing to threaten Gabriel, then a door opening and soft padding footsteps.

"What's going on?" asks a low, serious voice.

"Who the fuck are you?" Dean asks belligerently.

"Castiel Novak. That's my brother you're choking, please stop."

There's a pause, then a crash, like someone dropping to the floor. Sam crawls halfway out of the bathroom to watch the disaster unfolding. Dean's turned to face Castiel, a pale, dark-haired man with a solemn face.

"Your piece of shit brother pull this crap a lot?" Dean asks, stepping up into Castiel's face. When the other man doesn't back down, Sam's impressed. He knows what Dean looks like when he's angry.

"I don't know what Gabriel's done, but please stop yelling. I'm sure we can discuss this calmly if you-"

"He spent the night with my little brother!" Dean yells, turning back to haul Gabriel to his feet and slam him back against the wall. Sam sees Dean's fist draw back and closes his eyes.

"Stop." That's Castiel's voice, followed by a growl -Dean- and a loud thump.

"Hey!" Gabriel shouts, and Sam drags himself out of the bathroom to grab Dean. Castiel is slumped against the wall, head down, hand cupping his jaw. Gabriel looks furious, like maybe he's going to hit Dean, and Sam sends him a pleading look before leading Dean away. Dean lets Sam hand him a bag of frozen peas for his hand before locking himself in his room. Sam awkwardly goes back to his own room, intending to collapse on his bed, and groans when he sees the boxes everywhere. He takes a couple of aspirin and starts unpacking.

***

Dean's hand hurts. It's been a while since he’s hit someone, but it never fails to surprise him how much it hurts. He's still fuming, still wants to go out there and beat that Gabriel kid's ass till he understand that a drunk eighteen year old, especially one like Sam, is not fair game. And that fucking Castiel guy… Dean recognizes him as that TA who's always grading papers or studying in the café where Dean works. Right now, Dean can't fucking stand the guy. And now, apparently, he has to live with these fuckers for a year.

Dean clumsily dials Michael's number with his left hand.

"Hey bitch! How're you likin' the Novak house?"

"Your fucking brother's an ass. Like you, but worse," Dean growls into the phone, and Michael laughs.

"What, Cassie? Nah, he's just shy. He's a good guy," Michael says.

"No, the other one. Gabriel. Fucker took my brother home his first night out," Dean says, a new surge of anger going through him at the thought. Michael pauses, then sighs.

"Man, I'm sorry. Kick his ass for me and he won't do it again. No, on second thought, don't kick his ass, he’s not really a fighter."

"Oh, he won't do it again," Dean promises before hanging up.

 

***

Dean has work that afternoon, and of course, Jo notices his bruised knuckles immediately.

"Who'd you hit?" she asks casually as he fastens his name tag.

"Roommate. You know that scrawny guy who's always sitting in the corner? Dark hair, eats his pens?"

Jo raises her eyebrows, but nods.

"Yeah. Him," Dean finishes lamely, knowing it's not nearly enough detail for Jo, but he just doesn't want to think about the whole thing anymore. Thankfully, Jo lets it go.

Gabriel walks in a couple hours into Dean's shift and it's obvious from the way his eyes land on Dean as he scans the room that he's there to talk.

"I'm going on break," Dean mutters to Jo, who glances between him and Gabriel and nods. Dean walks right past Gabriel to stand outside, just far enough that if this turns into a fight there's a chance he won't get in trouble with work. Gabriel follows him out and starts talking before Dean even turns around.

"Look, I came to talk to you about Sam. I reall-"

"I'm only gonna say this one," Dean cuts in. "You ever touch Sam again, I'll fucking kill you. You don't talk to him. You don't touch him. You don't talk to me. No, I don't care. Leave him the fuck alone," Dean finishes, and glares at Gabriel until the smaller man drops his gaze and nods.

"I get it. Just, uh… Don't hit Cas again, okay?" Gabriel asks.

" 'S long as he doesn't fuck with us, I won't," Dean says gruffly. "We're done here," he says as he turns to walk away. Gabriel doesn't stop him.

 

***

Sam's classes don't start until Monday, so he spends a few hours unpacking his room before wandering around campus. He drops by the café when Dean's supposed to get off work and they go together to make him a key to the house. 

They don't talk about what happened after the party, and Sam knows he needs to clear the air, but he's not a hundred percent sure what happened himself and he can't seem to bring it up. When they return to the house that night, pizza in hand, the Novaks are nowhere to be seen. Sam breathes a sigh of relief and he can see Dean do the same. They don't mention their other roommates at all as they settle in for a night of video games and TV. Sam knows Dean would usually be out partying on a Saturday night, but he’s got that protective older brother look and Sam isn’t about to suggest they both go out. He has a feeling Dean’s going to be watching him more closely at parties from now on.

***

The awkwardness lessens slightly when classes start. During the first couple of weeks, Sam finds himself constantly going out, whether it's class, study groups, or the library for a cramming session. He tries to be home as little as possible, the tension when either of the Novaks and Dean are home at the same time making him too nervous to study. Dean's still openly hostile to both Gabriel and Castiel, glaring at them, his grip on whatever's in his hand turning white knuckled. He won't speak to either of them, not that they're stupid enough to try starting a conversation.

Castiel barely speaks to any of them, including Gabriel. Sam can never tell if he's home, his room upstairs silent either way. Gabriel starts to stay away from the house, only coming home to sleep, and sometimes not even that. Sam thinks he’s high most of the time, but doesn’t dare ask Dean. Gabriel doesn’t even spare a glance at Sam when Dean’s around.

Dean has school, and work, so when Sam finds himself home alone on a Friday night in late September, he's hardly surprised. He pads into the kitchen wearing nothing but pajama pants, trying to decide if he wants cereal or ramen, when he realizes he's not as alone as he thought. Gabriel's there, in the kitchen, and he's cooking. He's cooking something that smells so good, a rich, spicy aroma filling the room, that Sam's mouth instantly waters. He's still too embarrassed to be around Gabriel, though, so he turns to leave.

"Hey! Didn't know you were home tonight," Gabriel calls out, sounding a little sheepish. "You want some lasagna? I made a ton."

Sam turns to give Gabriel a half-hearted smile.

"No thanks, I'm just gonna, uh…" Sam trails off as his stomach growls loudly. Gabriel's mouth twitches.

"C'mon. Sit down, I'll get you a plate.”

Sam takes a seat at the kitchen counter, watching as Gabriel pulls a huge dish of lightly browned lasagna out of the oven. The enticing aroma intensifies and Sam’s stomach growls again. Gabriel laughs this time, warm brown eyes bright as he spoons a sizable portion onto a plate and places it in front of Sam.

“Not yet,” Gabriel says, stopping Sam from digging in. “It’s too hot, give it a minute.”

Sam groans involuntarily and leans closer to breathe in the steam rising from the pasta. He looks up to find Gabriel watching him and blushes.

“Sorry, just really hungry. Smells amazing, by the way,” Sam adds, dropping his eyes back to his plate. Gabriel laughs again, and it’s such a full, happy sound that Sam can’t help but mirror it.

“Not surprised you’re starving, growing boy like you,” Gabriel says, light, but with a question in his eyes. Sam doesn’t get it, so he just waits for Gabriel to continue. “You really a freshman?”

Sam blushes and looks down. He knows he probably should have told Gabriel that at the party, that maybe none of this would have happened if he’d just mentioned his age. He nods without looking up.

“Hey, it’s cool! It’s just surprising, you’re so... serious. Good thing nothing happened, then, huh?” Gabriel says, and Sam catches him winking as he whips his head up.

“Nothing happened? You’re sure?” Sam demands, then snaps his mouth shut. He didn’t mean to let on that he has no memory of getting home, but... he really needs to know. Gabriel’s eyes widen.

“You don’t remember anything?”

“I remember leaving the party... And then waking up in your bed,” Sam finishes awkwardly, his face hot. Gabriel’s expression is unreadable. 

“We didn’t do anything. You couldn’t sleep on your bed because we were too drunk to move the boxes. Did you think I...?”

“No! Well... I mean I didn’t know what happened, but I didn’t think you like... took advantage or anything,” Sam says quickly, desperate to show that he doesn’t hate Gabriel like Dean does.

“Sam, if anything had happened that night, that would have been taking advantage. You get that, right?” Gabriel waits for him to nod before continuing, “You get that drunk again, you call Dean, okay? Lots of people on this campus would love to take advantage of someone like you.”

Sam’s about to ask what he means by “someone like you”, but Gabriel motions to his plate.

“Pretty sure that’s cool enough to eat now.”

They don’t talk about the party or that night again as they eat, but Sam relaxes, relief spreading through him as tension he didn’t realize he was holding onto bleeds away.

***

Dean’s fallen into the habit of hating the Novaks without even having to think about it. He aims a level 9 Death Glare at anyone in his house who’s not Sam and otherwise completely ignores them both. They both stay out of his way and mostly out of the house, apparently less stupid than they look. Work is a different story. Gabriel hasn’t come back since that first time, but Castiel still sits in the corner with his stacks of papers and red pen or highlighter. 

When he first came in after the “incident”, he carefully avoided meeting Dean’s eye, and Dean took it as something of a truce. The café, as it turns out, has become a kind of no man’s land for them. Not exactly neutral; more a tense kind of cease-fire because they both have to be there for some reason or another. Dean sometimes wants to ask Castiel if he really has nowhere else to go, but that would involve talking to the guy and that’s way too friendly. So they carefully ignore each other almost every day, Cas looking anywhere but at Dean as he orders coffee after coffee, Dean uncomfortably aware of that corner table he’s not looking at.

Halloween evening finds Dean working, Cas in his corner, and almost no one else in the café. The pizza place next door is doing a costume contest, music and chatter audible every time someone opens the door. Dean knows he could close early, no one’s coming in at this point and his manager’s lenient, but Cas still has an inch tall stack of papers to grade and Dean can’t bring himself to kick him out. 

Dean starts brewing him another coffee, adds cream and sugar like Cas likes it, and wonders when he learned how Cas likes his drinks. For that matter, when did he start thinking of him as Cas? Dean shoves the thought away and drops the coffee on Cas’s table, making him jump. Startled blue eyes shoot up to Dean’s face and Dean finds himself walking away fast, calling “On the house,” over his shoulder.

Cas stays another half hour before disappearing quietly out the door, lugging his heavy bag behind him, his table cleared off as usual. Dean watches him go, wondering if he has plans for Halloween, if he ever goes out or has fun. He sighs and pulls out his phone to ask Jo which bar he should head to.

***

Sam’s finally made a few friends, so he doesn’t really have an excuse for bumming around the apartment on Halloween. Everyone’s going to parties, dressing up and getting drunk, and Sam is wearing jack-o’lantern boxers and a blanket around his shoulders while he makes grilled cheese and watches Hocus Pocus. He’s glad Dean’s not around to make fun of him. He wonders briefly where Dean is. Probably at a bar, which Sam can’t go to because he’s not 21 and he doesn’t have a fake ID. Dean says Sam has too much of a babyface to use one, but Sam thinks his height might actually cancel that out.

Castiel isn’t home either, Sam heard him leave a few hours earlier and he hasn’t come back. Sam wonders if maybe Castiel is out at a bar too, and laughs to himself when he tries to picture it, Castiel’s solemn voice ordering a beer.

“What’s so funny, Sammy?” Sam whips around to find Gabriel standing in the doorway of the kitchen-slash-living room, wearing what appears to be half of a harlequin joker costume.

“Don’t call me that,” Sam replies reflexively, before adding, “Nothing.”

Gabriel watches him for a minute before strolling in to flop onto the couch next to him. Sam sits up straighter, pulling the blanket up to his chin.

“Not out partying tonight?” Gabriel asks, his eyes still on the movie.

“Oh no, I’m there right now,” Sam says sarcastically. Gabriel turns to raise an eyebrow at him, but Sam can see the corner of his mouth twitching. “What about you? What’s with the costume?” Sam asks, gesturing at the mostly-removed top half of a colorful onesie.

“Just wasn’t feelin’ it,” Gabriel says easily, leaning back into the couch with a sigh, draping an arm along the back. It’s close enough to Sam’s shoulders that he has to suppress a shiver, and for the first time since that night, he remembers how attracted he was to Gabriel at the party. He glances over the man now, trying to see if he’s still as attractive. He sees longish brown hair, a mouth that seems like it’s always half-way to a smile, and those brown eyes, like liquid laughter, so bright and quick. Sam looks away when he realizes Gabriel’s staring right back.

They watch the movie in silence for a while, Sam quietly freaking out as Gabriel sprawls more and more comfortably across the couch. Sam’s sure he can feel the heat from Gabriel’s arm along the back of his neck, Gabriel’s calf pressing against Sam’s shin is so hot it’s almost like burning. 

Sam can’t seem to remember how to breathe evenly, his mind spinning with images of Gabriel leaning in and kissing him, pressing him into the couch, straddling him... Gabriel shifts at his side and Sam leans in just slightly, just enough that Gabriel’s arm drops to curl around his shoulders. The sudden contact gives Sam’s courage a boost and he lets his head rest on Gabriel’s shoulder with a sigh. Gabriel doesn’t say anything, just tightens his arm around Sam for a moment and runs his thumb along Sam’s bare skin. 

When the movie’s over, they watch the next Halloween-themed family friendly thing that comes up, and the next, until Sam’s eyelids are drooping and Gabriel’s half lying against the arm of the couch, Sam on top of him, the blanket covering them both. Sam’s just thinking that he’s never been this comfortable, in spite of the fact that his feet are awkwardly hanging off the other end of the couch, when Gabriel taps him lightly.

“Hey. Hey Sam, you asleep?”

Sam groans and nuzzles closer, his face pressed to Gabriel’s chest.

“It’s getting late, people are gonna be coming home soon,” Gabriel says, and it takes a minute for the words to register. Dean. If Dean comes home and sees this... Sam sits up with a jolt, then sags as his head spins. He groans again and starts to get up. 

“Bedtime,” Gabriel says, getting up off the couch. Sam nods in agreement and heads to his room, pausing in the doorway.

“Goodnight, Gabriel,” he says, wanting to say more. Gabriel just winks at him before disappearing into his own room. Sam sighs and collapses on his bed, thinking how much more comfortable it would be with a warm, Gabriel shaped body in it.

***

 

The next time they’re home alone together, Sam’s trying to cram for a midterm. He’s actually been keeping up with the class, since he’s, as Dean would say, a big fucking nerd, but he’s still a little terrified for his first real college midterm. He’s lying on his bed trying to read through his notes one more time, absentmindedly kicking the wall, when he hears a “tssk tssk” and looks up to find Gabriel leaning in his doorway.

“I can smell the anxiety from here,” Gabriel says. “Midterms?”

Sam nods, wound too tight to speak.

“You know what takes the edge off?” Gabriel says, waggling his eyebrows.

“I don’t smoke weed,” Sam says quickly, and Gabriel laughs.

“Not that, wouldn’t wanna corrupt an innocent little freshman. Nah, how ‘bout a massage? I’m certified, you know,” Gabriel adds with a grin. Sam considers it..

“I should really keep studying....” he starts, even though it isn’t true. He’s learned as much as he’s going to at this point.

“C’mon, I’ll be gentle, I promise,” Gabriel says with a wink that sends a rush of heat to Sam’s face.

“Okay,” Sam relents, piling his notebooks off the bed. “Do you wanna do it here?”

“Yeah, this is good,” Gabriel says, nodding. “Let me get the oil. Take off your shirt and lie face down.”

Sam does as he’s told, ignoring the way the order sends nervous energy coursing through him. He lies on his bed and waits until he feels the dip of the mattress, then Gabriel straddling his hips. Gabriel’s hands are warm and slick as they slide slowly up his back, pressure light at first, then firm as he works out the knots in Sam’s muscles. Sam tries to hold in the groans and grunts of pleasure, but when Gabriel finds a particularly sore spot where Sam’s neck meets his shoulders, he can’t hold back. He expects Gabriel to laugh, but Gabriel just leans a little closer, presses a little harder, and murmurs just above him.

“ ‘S good, Sam?” Gabriel’s voice sounds a little lower than usual, and the words are accompanied by a hard, kneading thumb right where Sam’s sore. Sam “mmhmm”s in response and presses up into the touch. He’s starting to breathe hard, struggling to hold still under Gabriel’s strong hands, and he can feel himself growing hard. Gabriel moves lower down his back, still asking if it feels good, stopping to rub at the knots of tension he finds. When he reaches the waistband of Sam’s sweatpants, he slips the tips of his thumbs just past it before leaning to whisper into Sam’s ear.

“Okay if I go a little lower?”

Sam groans and arches up, nodding, and Gabriel exhales hard before moving his hands down, kneading at Sam’s ass. He only pulls Sam’s pants halfway down the swell of his ass, but it’s enough for the fabric to tug a little at Sam’s erection, sensation shooting up into his belly. Sam’s relaxed state is quickly evolving into a tense, aroused one, and he’s starting to think he needs to end this massage before it turns into a surprise happy ending. He’s fighting not to rut into the sheets under him and Gabriel keeps telling him to relax. Finally Gabriel sits back a little, resting on the back of Sam’s thighs.

“You okay? You just got really tense, you wanna stop?”

Sam nods without looking up, mortified. Gabriel gets up slowly, but doesn’t leave the room. “Is it something I did? Was it because I... I’m sorry if I went too far...” Gabriel trails off and Sam stays perfectly still, too embarrassed to face him. Eventually, Gabriel walks out of Sam’s room, quietly closing the door behind him.

The instant he’s gone, Sam shoves his hand down between his hips and the bed and wraps his fingers around his cock. He jerks himself fast and a little too rough, mad at himself for making such a good moment awkward. He pants at the thought of Gabriel touching him, how Gabriel’s slick, firm hands would feel on his cock. He comes with a whimper into his pillow, and doesn’t get up for a while after, letting the come grow tacky in his sweatpants.

***

Ever since Halloween, Dean’s been dropping free coffees on Cas’s table at the café anytime Cas seems especially overworked. Sometimes he’s reading out of a textbook, eyes not lifting from the page as he takes sip after sip of coffee, occasionally stopping to make a note in the margins. Sometimes he’s grading, a weary, bored look on his face as he goes through paper after paper. Dean watches him more than he’d like to admit, and as the weeks go by, he grows more and more concerned. 

Cas is looking increasingly exhausted, his clothes rumpled, his hair perpetually disheveled. Sometimes Dean thinks about telling Gabriel to look out for his brother, get him to lighten up his workload, but then the thought of speaking to Gabriel makes Dean want to strangle the guy, so it remains nothing but a thought.

In early November, Dean starts dropping occasional muffins and cookies on Cas’s table as well, noticing how rarely the man seems to eat. Castiel always responds the same way, with a surprised, “Thank you,” and curious stare. Dean never says anything at all, though he frequently imagines what it would be like if they talked. Cas needs someone to help him lighten up, and Dean knows he could do that. Except he hates the guy. So there’s that.

It’s a Friday night, and it’s ten minutes past closing. Cas hasn’t looked up in hours and Dean can’t bring himself to kick him out. He usually calls out “Closing in five minutes,” as if the café were full, even when there’s only Castiel in his corner. Tonight, Dean just closes the doors, flips the sign, and puts up the chairs, without disturbing Cas. Castiel is still steadily sipping his coffee as he reads, and Dean realizes that in the six hours Cas has been here today, he hasn’t eaten. Maybe it’s the protective older brother part of Dean, or maybe it’s something else, but he finds himself pulling out some bread, looking around in the back to make Cas a sandwich. He brings it over to the table, intending to just drop it next to Cas’s books like he usually does. Cas doesn’t look up from his book, though, so completely transfixed, his blue eyes wide and red-rimmed and his lower lip caught between his teeth in a way that makes Dean want to wrap him in a blanket and... 

Instead, Dean yanks the book out of Cas’s grasp and snaps it shut, putting it on the pile and shoving the sandwich under Cas’s nose.

“Eat.” He says, and Cas just blinks up at him like he’s not sure where he is. “Jesus, how long have you been studying? Food, Cas, you need food. Eat the sandwich.”

Cas’s eyes drop to the sandwich and he stares at it for a minute before lifting it to his lips.

“Mfffankff” Cas mumbles through the food, and Dean grins at him before getting up. Cas leaves while he’s cleaning everything up, looking dazed and a little lost, and Dean considers insisting on walking him home before deciding that might be taking it a little far. Cas is a big boy, he reminds himself, and one that Dean is supposed to hate.

***

Recently, Sam usually finds himself studying alone at the kitchen table late at night. It’s not that he hates parties, exactly, it’s just that interacting with that many strangers always seems like too much work. His friend Jess is constantly teasing him about being a hermit, but Sam’s used to that: he’s been getting it from Dean for years. Dean often goes straight from work to the bars, and if Cas comes home, it’s only to lock himself in his room immediately.

So tonight finds Sam half-working on a paper, half watching TV, when he hears the front door open. He heard Cas come home half an hour ago, so he assumes this must be Dean. Gabriel’s hardly been home since the massage.

“Hey Sam,” Gabriel says casually, ruffling Sam’s hair as he walks in and drops onto the couch, kicking off his shoes. Sam turns to glare at him as he tries to fix his hair, but Gabriel just laughs. “You wanna watch a movie?”

Sam nods gratefully, standing up and stretching. His paper’s not going to get written tonight, and a distraction would be nice, even if he is still awkward around Gabriel. He turns off the kitchen light and goes to sit beside him on the couch, trying not to think about the last time they were this close. Gabriel leans in to pull the blanket over both of them and starts to wrap his arm around Sam’s shoulders, then stops.

“Hey, this is okay, right?” he asks hesitantly. Sam nods and lets himself be gently manhandled into lying against Gabriel, his heart pounding, his breath already coming fast. Gabriel’s shirt is riding up a little and Sam lets his hand land on Gabriel’s hip so his thumb can stroke along the skin there.

The movie starts, and ten minutes in Sam’s lost track of what they’re watching because Gabriel’s hand is rubbing circles on his back, moving lower and lower, and Sam has somehow found the nerve to push his hand under Gabriel’s shirt to lie against the soft skin below his ribs. Gabriel’s eyes are fixed on the screen. Sam lets his fingers stroke gentle patterns along Gabriel’s skin, up to his ribs then down to the skin just above the waistband of his pants, lingering in the dip of his hips.

Gabriel’s hand slips lower to tug up the hem of Sam’s tee shirt and lie flat against the small of Sam’s back, fingertips sliding under the waistband of Sam’s sweatpants. Every spot where Gabriel’s skin is touching his feels like it’s crackling with electricity, and Sam wants more than light grazes, wants it so bad it almost hurts. He doesn’t dare move, except to keep tracing patterns on Gabriel’s skin. Gabriel’s hand does the same, fingertips light against his skin as they move around to the side of his thigh. Sam’s not wearing boxers, and he’s suddenly very aware that if Gabriel keeps going he’s going to reach Sam’s cock, and Sam’s been hard almost since he got on the couch. Gabriel’s hands still, curling around Sam’s hip, fingertips just shy of where Sam desperately wants them. Sam can’t find a way to ask, so lies perfectly still, achingly hard and tries to will Gabriel to touch him.

Gabriel’s hand stays where it is, and eventually Sam relaxes, his heart rate dropping back to something resembling normal as he shifts more comfortably against Gabriel. He falls asleep around halfway through the movie, and wakes up to Gabriel inching his way out from under him, trying to loosen Sam’s vice-like grip on his shirt. Sam mumbles something unintelligible and Gabriel chuckles quietly, pulling Sam up.

“C’mon, time for bed.” Sam lets Gabriel lead him to his bed and tries to pull him into it without thinking. Gabriel laughs. “Hey, c’mon, I have a bed just next door. Sleep tight, Sam.” Sam’s already asleep by the time Gabriel closes the door, warmed by the affection in Gabriel’s tone.

***

Movie night becomes a regular event for them, with Gabriel sometimes cooking beforehand. Sam’s hesitant at first, awkward about asking Gabriel about his life. He knows Gabriel is older than Castiel, and Castiel is a graduate student, so that puts Gabriel at least in his twenties. Fortunately, Gabriel answers all of Sam’s questions with the same easy humor, telling Sam all about backpacking through Europe after getting his undergraduate degree, getting a real massage therapy certification (he wasn’t joking), working in a tattoo parlor and a music store and as a lifeguard before coming back to get another degree. Gabriel fields some questions with a wink or a joke, but never takes offense at Sam’s prying. Sam’s amazed that Gabriel seems just as interested in him, asking about high school and Dean and Sam’s plans for the future while he teaches Sam how to roast a chicken or bake the perfect cherry pie, making virgin jokes just to watch Sam blush.

They only do it when they know Dean won’t be around, and they always end up wrapped around each other on the couch. Gabriel never takes his cuddling past something that could almost be called friendly, but Sam aches for more. He gets hard when they cuddle, and he’s sure Gabriel’s felt it more than once, but he’s never mentioned it.

***

It’s the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, and Sam and Gabe have the apartment to themselves. Sam knows they’re only going home for four days, but it seems like a long time to go without seeing Gabriel. Since Sam and Gabe have started hanging out, the Novaks have almost entirely stopped avoiding the apartment. Sam’s even eaten dinner with Cas a few times, when Dean’s not around of course. Castiel isn’t exactly standoffish, more distracted, but he’d managed to shoot Sam a few weary smiles before depositing his plate in the sink and disappearing back into his room. 

Tonight, Cas is nowhere to be seen, either locked in his room or out studying; Sam doesn’t really care. What he cares about is that he and Gabriel are on the couch, Sam lying mostly on top of Gabriel, but there’s no movie on. Gabriel didn’t put one in, didn’t turn on the TV, just laid down and opened his arms for Sam to crawl in. Sam props his head on one hand, looking up at Gabriel, and takes a deep breath for courage.

“I’m 18, you know. Totally legal.” Smooth.

Gabriel’s eyebrows rise, but he doesn’t answer right away. Sam’s not sure where to go from here, how to get from what he’s just said to what he wants to ask.

“What are you trying to tell me, Sam?” Gabriel finally says, and Sam drops his head down to rest on Gabriel’s chest with a sigh.

“I don’t know. I thought you... Don’t you want...?” He tails off. It’s Gabriel’s turn to sigh this time.

“Yeah, Sam, I want. I want you,” Gabriel says, and Sam’s head snaps up. “But... It’s complicated, with your brother, and us living together... and you’re a lot younger than me.”

Sam’s brow furrows. He’s never really heard Gabriel trying to be responsible, and he wonders he’s just saying this to make Sam feel better about being rejected.

“Okay,” Sam says slowly, pulling himself off Gabriel. “Then why are we doing this?” he asks, motioning at their tangled bodies. Gabriel looks guilty.

“I... uh... I thought you liked it.”

Sam stares at him. “Yeah, I did like it. I do like it. I want more of it.” Now he’s said it, can’t take it back, and he watches Gabriel’s expression change to one of doubt.

“Sam...”

“Yeah. You said. It’s complicated. But it doesn’t have to be, right? I mean it can just be a thing we do, like we do the couch thing. We can just... do other stuff also.” Sam tries to say it confidently, like he knows it’s true. Gabriel looks torn, so Sam shifts to straddle his hips, propping his elbows on either side of Gabriel’s head.

“Can we do this, Gabriel? Just... No one else even has to know, it won’t be a problem with Dean, I--” Sam’s cut off by Gabriel leaning up to press their lips together, Gabriel’s mouth soft and pliant under Sam. He lets Sam set the pace, smoothing his hands down Sam’s back to rest lightly on his hips, parting his lips for Sam’s tongue when it flicks along the seam of his mouth. Sam hasn’t kissed very many people, and he’s never kissed someone he wanted this badly. He can’t seem to stop, even when he’s getting dizzy and he knows he should breathe. Gabriel lets him take anything, gives back just the same, and Sam can’t stop licking into his mouth, biting at Gabriel’s lips just to hear the little whimpers from the back of his throat. Sam’s hard again, really, very hard, and when he shifts to get more comfortable, Gabriel shudders under him.

“Fuck... Sam... We should go to your room or something.”

The way Gabriel’s voice is low and rough stirs something in Sam and he scrambles up, adjusting his pants before hauling Gabriel along to his room. Sam’s tempted to just throw Gabriel onto the bed, knows he probably could, too, and that really shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does. Instead, he gently pushes the smaller man back to lie on his rumpled sheets, climbing on after him, bracketing his hips and leaning down to kiss him again. Gabriel surges up, arms wrapping around Sam, drawing him in, and Sam thinks finally, finally as he grinds down against Gabriel. Gabriel’s gasping into his mouth, hands tightening on Sam’s back, and Sam thinks they should be taking their clothes off, they should be doing something, but neither of them can seem to drag their lips away from each other long enough.

Gabriel’s hips are shifting up against Sam, and he can feel Gabriel’s cock through his pants, hard and hot and slotted in the groove of Sam’s hip. Sam rolls his hips down again, harder, just to feel Gabriel shudder. They find a rhythm, and as they pick up speed their kissing becomes sloppy, both of them breaking away to pant into each other’s mouths as they move together.

Sam comes first, hips jerking and stuttering, hands clenching on Gabriel’s arms, and when it’s done he collapses to the side and rubs Gabriel’s cock through his pants until he gets to watch Gabriel arch and bite his lip, hips jerking frantically against Sam’s hand. The sight has Sam’s spent cock twitching uselessly and he can’t tear his eyes away until Gabriel relaxes. They both lie there catching their breath for a few minutes.

“You okay?” Gabriel asks, turning to brush the hair out of Sam’s eyes.

“Great,” Sam says with a grin. “You?”

“Yeah,” Gabe says with a contented sigh. “Gonna go clean up. Wanna watch a movie?”

“Mmhmm,” Sam says, trying to blink away sleepiness. Gabriel laughs and pushes him out of bed.

“C’mon, you can fall asleep on the couch. With me,” he says as he wanders down the hall.

Sam changes out of his sticky boxers, using them to wipe the come off his skin. He pulls on some sweatpants and walks into the living room to find Gabriel already on the couch, movie paused on the opening credits. Gabe holds the blanket up for Sam to crawl in, and Sam curls himself comfortably against Gabriel’s chest. As predicted, he falls asleep before the halfway point, and doesn’t really wake up fully when Gabriel puts him to bed.

***

Cas has taken to staying past closing every night that Dean works at the café. Dean asked Jo if Cas stays other nights, and got a weird look and a shake of the head in response. He makes Cas eat when he’s been sitting there for too long, and sometimes when he drops a coffee on Cas’s table he “accidentally” pushes the book or paper or whatever out of Cas’s hands. Once in a while, Dean will even let Cas stay an extra hour, watching as Cas works his way through a pile of work that just doesn’t seem possible.

Tonight, Dean closed the café a half hour ago, but he’s not tired and Cas isn’t moving. Dean’s debating bringing him another coffee, before deciding it’s too late for coffee and Cas looks like he needs some sleep anyway. He brings over a hot cocoa instead, plenty of whipped cream on top, and a brownie he’d set aside earlier. He was going to give it to Sam, who still gets stupidly excited about all the free food Dean can obtain, but Dean can see the slight tremor in Cas’s hand as it turns another page. He stopped questioning why he’s watching Cas so closely weeks ago. It’s just a habit now.

“Okay, you’re done,” Dean announces as he reaches the table, putting the food down and yanking the papers away from Cas. Cas doesn’t protest as Dean piles it all into Cas’s bag and pushes the brownie and drink forward. “C’mon, eat, you look like Death.”

Cas obeys, eyes still glazed over as he takes a bite. He blinks down at the brownie a few times like he’s surprised to find it there.

“You brought me dessert? Did I eat dinner already?”

Dean laughs, but there’s a hint of concern in his voice when he replies.

“Nah, you didn’t yet, I just thought you might want this. Need to enjoy something, you know?”

Cas nods, taking another bite before offering it to Dean, who shakes his head. When Cas sips the hot cocoa, he makes another surprised face.

“This is a lot of chocolate, you know,” Cas says, but he takes another sip, whipped cream clinging to his lip. Dean reaches over and wipes it off, laughing at Cas’s startled face.

“You’re a mess,” Dean says, affection creeping into his voice. “What would you do without me?”

Cas tilts his head curiously, but doesn’t answer, electing to return to the brownie. Dean starts to feel awkward sitting there watching him eat. They haven’t exactly addressed the fact that Dean does these little things for Cas. They haven’t addressed anything, actually, seeing as they don’t speak. Dean’s still a complete jackass to Cas at home, although that might be more out of habit than actual resentment.

Dean goes to grab his bag and comes back to find Cas standing at the door, waiting, drink in hand. They’ve never gone home together, and somehow that’s always kept the café separate, this space where Dean doesn’t have to hate Cas. They walk in silence for a few blocks before Dean speaks.

“So why’re you always working so hard?”

Cas looks up, surprised, then seems to mull it over for a bit while they walk.

“Well, I’m a graduate student, but I’m also a TA for several classes on top of the requirements. And I’m working on another project with Professor Mills, because that research is very interesting. It’s really not that much work, lately it’s just been...” He doesn’t finish, maybe because Dean snorted at his last statement.

“Not that much? Cas, you work all the time. It’s all you do. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you have fun,” Dean says, and he lets the concern he feels color his tone. Cas doesn’t answer, just chews his lip thoughtfully while Dean pulls out the key to the building.

“Maybe you should take a break or something, you know? Or like... lighten up your load, maybe you don’t need to be a TA for all the classes?” he asks hopefully, but Cas just shakes his head and doesn’t say anything. Dean opens the front door for Cas, and they walk in together. Sam and Gabriel are nowhere to be seen, and Cas mutters a quick “thanks” to Dean before locking himself in his room. Dean stands there, confused. He’s been wanting to say these things to Cas for months, just hasn’t dared speak to him, not when he actively makes the guy uncomfortable in his own home every day. Dean shakes himself, forcing the prickly feeling away, and heads for the shower.

***

Sam and Gabriel are in Sam’s bed when they hear Dean come in. He’s talking to someone they both quickly realize is Cas and they look at each other in surprise as Cas’s footsteps disappear upstairs to his own room and Dean wanders off to the shower.

“They’re talking now?” Sam whispers, and Gabe shrugs, starting to roll off the bed. “Where are you going?” Sam asks. He was kind of hoping for a repeat of last time.

“Can’t let him catch me in here,” Gabriel replies with a wistful smile and slips out the door. Sam watches him go with a frustrated sigh. They haven’t had an evening alone together since that first time and Sam’s had to make do with fucking his fist, alternating between hoping Gabriel can hear him panting and praying that Dean can’t. They’d only just started making out when Dean came home but Sam had had time to get hard and he debates jerking off before going to sleep. 

He stretches out on his back and pictures Gabriel, in the next room, getting into bed. Sam wonders if he sleeps naked, decides to imagine that he does. He felt Gabriel’s cock hard against his hip earlier, and now he pictures Gabriel taking care of that, licking his palm and wrapping it around himself. In Sam’s head, Gabriel’s sparkling brown eyes don’t leave his as he starts to stroke the shaft, a clever twist of the wrist on every upstroke catching the breath in his throat.

Sam can’t help the groan that escapes him and he unzips his jeans, kicking them off and climbing under the sheets. He can hear Dean walk back upstairs to his room, probably dripping water everywhere, and slam his door. Music comes on a moment later, along with the sound of Dean throwing himself onto his bed. Sam huffs a sigh of relief and tries to relax, slipping his hand into his boxers. The thought of Gabriel just on the other side of the wall spurs Sam on and he lets himself moan a little as he works precome down his shaft, other hand tugging the boxers down his hips and off. He’s just getting into a good rhythm when his phone buzzes from the nightstand.

[[Having fun in there?]]

It’s an unknown number, but considering who he shares a wall with, Sam can guess who it’s from. He quickly types out a response.

[[I’d be having more fun if you were here.]]

He absently strokes his cock as he waits for the reply to come.

[[Too risky. Can I call you? Wanna hear you.]]

Sam immediately sends back a “yes”, then answers the phone on the first ring. It’s halfway to his ear before he realizes he can’t really talk without risking Dean hearing him.

“Gabe?” he whispers into the mouthpiece, and gets a low hum in response.

“Are you touching yourself?” Gabe answers, low voice washing over Sam, sending a rush of heat over his skin.

“Y-yeah,” Sam replies in a whisper, after a moment’s hesitation.

“God, wish I could see your face right now. Can practically hear you blushing, so hot when you’re all pink.” There’s a break in Gabriel’s voice that has Sam’s hips hitching up into his fist and he lets out a sound that’s closer to a whimper than anything else. He should have known Gabriel wouldn’t be shy about this. Gabriel groans in response and the image of him getting himself off is bright again in Sam’s mind.

“Are you... are you doing it too?” Sam asks, face coloring at his awkward wording. Gabriel doesn’t laugh though, just hums in agreement.

“You ever done this before, Sam?” Gabriel asks, his voice still hushed. Sam shakes his head before remembering Gabriel can’t see him.

“Never... never done anything like this,” Sam gasps and Gabriel utters a quiet “fuck”. Dean’s footsteps are suddenly on the stairs, passing in the hall, headed to the kitchen, and they both fall silent except for panting breaths. 

Sam imagines he can hear the hush-hush sound of Gabriel’s hand on his cock and it sends bolts of warmth to his belly. He’s almost glad that they have to stay quiet, because he’s pretty sure he couldn’t string two words together at the moment. Sam strains to hear every breath and moan coming across the line, echoing the sounds with his own, pleasure tightening in his belly as he hears Gabriel’s breath start to stutter. The phone is starting to dig into his skin, he’s pressing it against his ear so hard, but he barely notices as his hips start to pump erratically into his hand. 

He tries to hold on as long as he can, wanting more than anything to hear the moment Gabriel loses it, but when he brushes his thumb over the head of his cock on the upstroke, he lets out a whimper and Gabriel mutters a quiet “fuck, Sam, sound so good,” and that’s it. Sam comes over his stomach, hips lifting completely off the bed, everything going white for a moment. When he comes down, the phone is somehow down by his knee and he scrabbles for it with his free hand.

“Gabe?” Sam asks breathlessly.

“ ‘M here... You okay?” comes Gabriel’s sleepy mumble.

“Yeah... yeah, that was... that was fun,” Sam says, grinning into his pillow.

Gabriel just chuckles and Sam gets to listen to him drop into sleep, gentle snoring lulling him under as well.

***

“What are you grinning at?”

Sam blinks as Dean’s voice brings him back to the present. He blushes, trying to force the echo of Gabriel’s heated whispers out of his mind.

“Nothing. Star Wars or Die Hard?” Sam holds both DVDs up so Dean can see them from the kitchen, where he’s grabbing napkins and beer. There’s pizza on the coffee table and Dean places the beers beside it to put Die Hard in the player. He drops onto the couch, remote in hand, but doesn’t hit play, instead turning to face Sam.

“How’re classes? Friends? You’re not being a total hermit, right?” Dean asks, and Sam starts to roll his eyes, but stops when he sees the little creases of real concern on Dean’s face.

“I’m fine. You know I’d tell you if something was up.”

Dean sighs. “Okay. I just.. you’re not, like, avoiding me, right?”

Dean looks awkward as he says it, and Sam realizes he’s embarrassed.

“We live together dude. I see you every day. We hung out on Monday.” Sam lets his confusion bleed into his tone.

“I know, it’s just... you seem kind of preoccupied lately.”

Sam blushes and Dean watches him curiously, eyebrows rising.

“Are you... seeing someone?”

Sam goes to sputter a denial and Dean honest-to-god whoops in delight.

“Who is it? It’s a dude right? You’re still into...” Dean goes kind of pink and this time Sam does roll his eyes.

“Yeah Dean, still into dudes. It’s just a guy, you don’t know him.” Something twists in Sam’s gut as he lies to his brother. It’s not something he’s ever really had to do, not since that time he spilled ice cream in the Impala. He managed to keep that secret for a whole ten minutes but he was only fourteen at the time.

Dean watches him for a beat longer before turning to the TV.

“Okay, well, let me know when you want me to meet him.”

Sam doesn’t miss the note of pride in his brother’s voice, and he tries to bury the twinge of guilt deep.

***

On Sunday, Sam stumbles out of his room to find Gabriel in nothing but pajama bottoms, slinging a frying pan around the kitchen to staticky showtunes blaring from their ancient boom box. Gabe’s smile widens impossibly when he sees Sam, and Sam can’t help but return the grin.

“Pancakes?” Gabriel says in greeting and Sam nods, gratefully accepting the mug of coffee being handed to him. He sits at the counter and slowly wakes up, and as he does, he finally notices what Gabriel’s doing.

“Are those... M&Ms? And... Gabe, why are you putting candy in the pancakes?”

“Candy makes everything better,” Gabe answers with a wink, dropping some crumbled Reeses into his already-chock-full pancake. He deftly flips it and turns to face Sam. “No morning sugar rush for you?”

Sam goes to shake his head and finds he can’t, because Gabe is leaning closer, closer, and then pressing their mouths together. Sam forgets to worry for just a moment - loses himself in the gentle pressure and the way Gabriel’s lips move against his - but then he jerks away and throws a furtive glance to the open door.

“Relax, it’s just us today,” Gabriel says, his lips still close to Sam’s skin. He’s still smiling, but it’s a little sad now. Sam, on the other hand, is practically ecstatic at the words. Just us today. A whole day with Gabe, a whole day that Gabe wants to spend with him.

“What should we do?” Sam asks, trying to sound unaffected and probably failing. Gabriel turns back to the stove to flip the pancake before answering.

“Anything we want, Sam. Anything we want,” he announces with a grandiose air, arms spread wide as though addressing a crowd. Sam snorts into his coffee a little and accepts a pancake.

***

Sam’s nervous about going out somewhere with Gabriel, certain one of Dean’s friends will spot them, but Gabriel takes them across town. He shows Sam where he works (a particularly grimy-looking diner), but they don’t go in. Instead, Gabriel leads him to a bookstore a few doors down. It’s dark, and dusty, and a little shabby. Sam instantly loves it and he can tell from Gabriel’s smug smile that he’s been wanting to show Sam this place for a while.

When they finally emerge into the cold, bright sunshine, Sam realizes he’s starving and his stomach promptly makes that fact known to everyone in earshot. Gabriel laughs and pulls him down the street to find lunch.

***  
There’s something hard and pointy poking Dean between the ribs. He snuffles and tries to ignore it, sinking back into strange, colorful dreams of giant sandwiches for a moment before snapping awake when the thing pokes him again. He jolts upright in his hard library chair and turns to find Castiel standing uncomfortably behind him, withdrawing the pen he was using to prod Dean.

“What do you want?” Dean asks, voice rough with sleep. He nearly winces at how harsh his words sound, but then again, he was just woken in what has to be the most unpleasant way possible.

“You were snoring,” Cas replies politely. Dean throws a quick look around, and sure enough, several students are staring at him, some snickering. Dean rolls his eyes and throws his books in his bag, standing with a groan.

“Just taking a quick study nap, Cas, you should look into those,” Dean snarks, and starts to head for the door. To his surprise, Cas is still beside him as he exits the library. “What are you doing here anyway? Never seen you here before.”

“I needed to print a paper. Are you going home now?”

Dean wonders for a second if there’s any way he can say “no” and still keep Cas with him. He was eager to get home just a minute ago, but now the thought of being back in the place where he and Cas don’t even look at each other is suddenly unappealing. He can’t think of a casual way to say “stay with me”, though, so he just nods. 

***

Dean fumbles his keys momentarily, too busy watching Cas's mouth, the slight quirk in the corner and the glint of white teeth. A smile, tiny but real. Dean wants to hug him.

Then they're inside, Cas stopping to take off his boots and coat, Dean bypassing the coat rack to head straight for the kitchen. A nice, hot cup of coffee has his name on it. Maybe he can even offer one to Cas, see if he wants to hang out, watch a--

The kitchen's not empty though. Gabriel's in there, both his hands gripping the counter, leaning aggressively into some guy's space. A certain tall, floppy haired guy, who's head has just jerked up at the sound of Dean's footsteps. Gabriel freezes and Sam's eyes grow wide.

Dean takes in the scene for longer than is really necessary, long enough for Cas to join him and utter a quiet, "Dean". That seems to break the spell. Dean stomps over to where Gabriel is pressing Sam against the counter, cornering him, really, and wrenches the guy away from his brother.

"Dean!" Sam yells, and Dean rounds on him.

"Don't you stand up for him, not this time! I saw what was going on!" Dean's yelling, he can hear it even over the pounding in his ears, and Sam looks mad but also a little scared. Dean can't stand that and for a second he wonders if Sam's scared of him.

Gabriel takes a few steps back, hands up like an apology, and darts a glance at Sam before speaking.

"Hey man, I'm sorry. I'll let you two talk." He turns as if to leave and Dean steps forward to stop him, but Castiel is in the way.

"Cas, move."

"Perhaps you should speak to your brother, Dean. You're making assumptions about the situation--"

"Situation? There's a situation? Did you know about this?" Dean doesn't believe it, not really. Sam wouldn't... And Castiel definitely wouldn't let Gabriel...

Cas's face is answer enough, but Dean stares him down, waiting for a verbal confirmation of what he already knows.

"Yes, Dean. I live here. I'm not sure how you avoided figuring it out earlier, actually."

Dean feels the jab, but doesn't argue. He feels the fight go out of him and collapses into a kitchen chair like a puppet whose strings have been cut. Sam's still leaning against the counter, nervously glancing between Cas and Dean. Cas gives them a brief nod before leaving them.

"How long?" Dean asks, not sure he wants to know.

"Around Thanksgiving. Dean, I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but you gotta know, nothing happened that first night after the party. He just took me home, you know?"

Dean doesn’t say anything.

“And I’m 18, Dean. I can make decisions about who I-- I hang out with all on my own.”

Dean doesn’t miss the hesitation in Sam’s voice when he tries to name his relationship with Gabriel, but doesn’t comment. He just nods weakly. If this guy really didn’t take advantage, and he’s the one who’s been making Sam smile more, have fun every once in a while, then Dean can’t exactly argue. He doesn’t really want to, either.

"I've been kind of an ass, huh?" Dean asks, when he finally finds the courage to look up at his little brother. Sam smiles wryly.

"Kind of. 'S'okay. Just, you know, don't do it again?" Sam asks, and Dean lets out a laugh.  
"Promise. Go find your... Boyfriend?" Dean asks, and Sam blushes.

"We're not... I don't know what we are."

Dean nods. Now's not the time to start judging Sam's relationship decisions.

***

Sam knocks softly and waits. There's a quiet "Hey," from the other side, and he pushes the door to Gabriel's room open. He's never been in here, he realizes as he takes in the various concert posters, colorful flags, and pictures tacked up on the walls. There's a bright orange and purple lava lamp next to the bed and a bean bag chair on the floor. It looks every inch a college student's room, much more so than Sam's own room, actually.

Gabriel is sitting on the bed, leaning back against the wall. He doesn't meet Sam's eye.

"So... that was awkward," Sam begins, and Gabriel gives a tiny snort. Encouraged, Sam continues, "But now it's done, right? I mean, they know now, so... Well apparently Cas knew already, I don't know how he found out, but it doesn't matter because now Dean knows and he's cool with it, I mean, I don't think he's thrilled but he's basically okay with--"  
Sam snaps his mouth shut when he realized he's babbling and waits for Gabriel to say something.

"Dean's right, Sam." Gabriel's voice is flat, nothing like the usual undercurrent of laughter in it. "You're just a kid, and I'm... kind of a deadbeat."

Sam blinks.

"I'm eighteen, and you've done more stuff than anyone I've ever known."

Gabriel looks surprised for a moment, but it's gone in the blink of an eye, replaced by a blank expression Sam doesn't like. He looks... resigned.

"You're driven. You're the most ambitious kid I know, you could do anything you want, and I'm just an old guy who lives on a college campus 'cause it's fun and I'm too flaky to pursue any kind of goal." Gabriel finally looks up at Sam. "This isn't going anywhere."

Sam wants to argue, wants to yell at Gabe for being an idiot, tell him that this is college and he can damn well mess around with his roommate without worrying about it "going anywhere". Except he doesn't want this to be just messing around, and he's starting to realize that Gabe doesn't want that either. Sam feels out of his depth, /like a kid/, and he doesn't like it. He's not going to be a petulant brat about this, he decides on the spot. Sam Winchester can be an adult.

"Fine. I understand," Sam says, and backs out of the room before Gabriel can reply. He feels like he's been kicked in the stomach, or maybe the chest, a dull ache that doesn't go away even when curls up under his blanket to stare at the wall. 

***

"Hey Sammy." Dean keeps his voice soft, in case Sam wants to fake sleep. Dean can tell he's awake from his breathing, but he figures he can give the guy a break.

Sam snuffles a little and grunts a greeting. Dean sits on the edge of the bed.

"You okay? Saw you didn't go to class today." Dean doesn't mention that it doesn't look like Sam's left his bed at all since last night.

"Just tired," Sam says. Dean frowns.

"Dude, don't lie to me. What's up? This about yesterday? 'Cause I'm cool with it now, you 'n Gabriel..." Dean trails off.

"He's not. Cool with it, I mean. Says I'm too young." Sam doesn't sound heartbroken, Dean thinks in relief. He doesn't really sound... anything, for that matter. Dean's not sure how to work with that.

"You're not any younger than you were at Thanksgiving," Dean remarks neutrally. Sam just grunts. Moping Sam is his least favorite Sam. Fortunately he rarely makes an appearance. Dean debates poking Sam until he falls out of bed, but rules it out. Sam’s made it clear he wants to be treated like an adult.

"Listen, if this is because of me--” Dean starts, but Sam turns to face him.

“Don’t worry about it, this isn’t about you.” Sam says it like he’s sure, like the topic is closed. Dean gives him a minute to decide if he wants to continue, then gives up and digs his fingers into Sam’s ribs, searching till he finds the spot that has Sam kicking and writhing, red in the face from trying not to laugh. When Sam finally manages to kick Dean onto the floor, he’s grinning down at him with mussed hair and laughter in his eyes.

“C’mon, let’s grab some dinner,” Dean says, picking himself up off the floor. “And you need to shower.” Sam punches him lightly in the shoulder but shoots him a grateful look on their way out. 

***

It’s two hours past closing. Dean was supposed to be at Jo’s party over an hour ago, but Cas is still frantically making notes in the margin of his giant textbook and Dean’s still trying to get on Cas’s good side. Cas still hasn’t so much as glanced at him since the day they came home to find Sam and Gabe... Well Dean’s not thinking about that right now. He looks at Cas, really looks, and is struck once again by how tired Cas looks. He’s even paler than usual, and he’s grown a fine black stubble across his jaw. It’s obvious to Dean that he never took Dean’s advice; he looks like he hasn’t taken a break in months. Dean decides that Cas is getting some rest tonight, even if it does land Dean even further into Cas’s bad side. He marches over to the table and snaps Cas’s book out of his hands and into Cas’s bag, which he throws over his shoulder.

“C’mon. We’re going home. No arguing.” Dean doesn’t give Cas a chance to answer, just turns and goes to hold the front door open expectantly. Cas rubs his eyes for a moment before slowly standing and walking out. He waits as Dean locks the door and falls into step beside him as they make their way down the dark street. Dean keeps throwing Cas furtive glances, trying to see if Cas is mad that Dean made him leave, but Cas is staring down at his feet as they walk.

“So what’re you working on?” Dean asks, keeping his voice casual, as if this isn’t the first time they’ve spoken in weeks.

“Research,” Cas answers simply, and Dean doesn’t try talking again until they’re walking into the silent apartment. Dean wonders momentarily where Sam and Gabe are, decides he doesn’t want to know, and turns to find Cas staring at him expectantly. When Dean just blinks at him, Cas holds out his hand.

“You have my books.”

Dean looks at the bag at his side in surprise, then at Cas’s hand, then shakes his head.

“Nope. You’re done with research tonight. You need to do something else for a change, Cas.” Dean says, not handing the bag over. Cas looks like he’s about to argue, then he heaves a sigh and shakes his head.

“You’re right. I need a distraction,” Cas says, and stands in the entryway like he’s waiting for Dean to say something. “What should I do?” he finally asks.

Dean laughs.

“Whatever you wanna do. You want a beer? You wanna watch some TV?” Dean walks into the living room, dropping Cas’s books onto the table and opening the fridge.

“We could get high,” comes Cas’s reply, and Dean spins so fast the room sways.

“We?” is the first word out of his mouth, and when Cas flinches, Dean quickly tries to backpedal. “I mean yeah, we could do that. I don’t have any weed though. Do you even smoke?” Dean’s talking too fast, trying to get past the awkward moment. Cas hesitates for a moment before answering.

“I haven’t in a while. We can take Gabriel’s, he won’t mind. We should do it on the roof though, we aren’t supposed to smoke inside.”

The “roof” Cas is referring to turns out to be the overhang that covers their parking spaces. It’s accessible through both Dean and Cas’s windows, so Cas gets the weed while Dean grabs a couple of blankets and a pillow. It’s cold out, Dean can see his breath in the moonlight, but neither of them seem to mind. Cas rolls a couple of joints while Dean watches him, strangely fascinated by his deft fingers and sure movements. 

Dean wants to apologize, but more than anything he wants to stay out here with Cas and smoke the weed and see what happens, so he doesn’t say a word, just takes the proffered joint that Cas holds out to him and puts it between his lips. Cas lights it for him and Dean inhales, holding the smoke in his lungs and relishes the burn in his throat. He takes another hit before handing it to Cas. The buzz is already settling over him as he watches Cas take the joint and inhale deeply. He gives a small half-cough as he exhales, and stares at the joint contemplatively before taking another hit.

When Dean gets the joint back, the tip is slightly damp from Cas’s mouth and Dean wants to taste it. He doesn’t, just takes another lungful and holds it in, marvelling at the way the smoke curls through the air when he exhales slowly. He hands the joint over to Cas right away this time and doesn’t disguise his interest as he watches Cas’s lips close over the it, catching a little on the damp paper. Dean can feel Cas watching him, but he can’t tear his eyes away from those pink lips opening, the steady stream of smoke passing between them to rise and disperse. 

Cas offers the joint to Dean and gently puts it out when Dean shakes his head. They sigh in unison and lie back, Dean enjoying the pleasant fuzziness and the way he’s suddenly comfortable, at ease around Cas for the first time. He turns to tell him so and sees Cas shiver in spite of his thick sweater. Dean quickly flicks one of the blankets over them, lying close to Cas so they both fit under it.

“Do you think I’m an asshole, Cas?” Dean asks, the question surprising himself as much as Cas. He hadn’t known what he was going to say until the words left him, but he can’t seem to work up the effort to be worried. He stares up at the stars while he waits for Cas to answer, thinking that the way they twinkle is especially friendly tonight. He giggles a little at the thought, then quickly straightens his face as Cas speaks.

“No. I don’t think that. I think you’re... you’re not what I expected.” Cas says, and when Dean sneaks a glance at him he sees Cas’s brow is furrowed in concentration, like he’s really thinking about how best to explain. “When we met - when you hit me -” 

“I’m sorry,” Dean interjects, then quiets when Cas holds up his hand.

“I know why you did it. You shouldn’t have hit me, but I understand now, how you feel about your brother, how angry you were. You’re very protective of those you care for, Dean.” Cas says it like praise, and Dean relaxes. He rolls onto his side to face Cas.

“So why didn’t you ever talk to me?” Dean asks, keeping the plaintive note out of his voice. Cas turns to him in surprise before looking back up at the sky to answer.

“Dean, you made it quite clear from the beginning that I wasn’t to speak to you. I suppose... somewhere along the way that changed. But then, when we... Well, it seemed very clear to me that you didn’t want anything to do with me, especially when we were home. So I’ve been trying to stay out of your way. I know it must be difficult to live with people you can’t stand, so I thought I’d make it easier.”

Guilt roils in Dean’s belly and he cringes at Cas’s words. He already knew this, but he’d assumed Cas hated him. Somehow that would have made it better, made Dean less of a complete asshole for treating him this way.

“I’m sorry,” Dean whispers, and Cas sighs and turns to face him.

“It’s alright.” It might sound trite from someone else, but the way Cas says it leaves no doubt in Dean’s mind that it’s the truth. They lie in silence for moment before Dean finds himself giving voice to something else that’s been bothering him. 

“Gabriel broke up with Sam.”

Castiel nods.

“Sam says it’s not my fault, but...”

“Dean, my brother hasn’t had a lasting relationship in years. Sam makes him want to... commit.”

Cas chuckles a little at Dean’s raised eyebrows.

“Not only to their relationship. Gabriel’s been talking about going back to school, maybe keeping a steady job. Sam’s good for him.”

“Then why...?”

“It scares him, I think. Gabriel assumes that if Sam’s good for him, he must be bad for Sam. Or something like that. Gabriel’s never really thought highly of himself. I expect it has to do with our parents. He’s never lived up to their expectations, not that he should of course, but...”

“Is that what you’re doing? Living up to their expectations?” Dean watches Castiel’s expression turn to surprise, then amusement. 

“I suppose, in a way, yes. I’ve never excelled at sports like Michael, or had the kind of charisma that’ll take Luci to the White House. My studies are my path to the kind of success my parents can appreciate... And, of course, they present a good distraction.”

“From what?”

Castiel smiles wryly. “Everything.”

Dean frowns. He’s not exactly sure what Castiel means, but he can think of plenty of other distractions Castiel could indulge in. He opens his mouth to say so and hears the front door open and shut, heavy footsteps leading to Sam’s room.

“I’m just gonna--” Dean starts, but Castiel is already nodding and sitting up.

“Of course. I’ll clean up out here.”

Dean shoots him one last regretful look before climbing back in through the window. 

***

Dean tracks Gabriel down at the diner the next day. He’d had to ask Castiel where his brother worked, and Cas had given him this little concerned head tilt, as if Dean were going to go down there and start a fight. He’s still not entirely sure he’s not going to-- a couple of days is a short time to be letting go of months of resentment.

The diner’s nearly empty, just an old man and his coffee at the counter and pale, thin sunlight streaming in through dirty windows. Dean makes his way to the counter and asks after Gabriel. The tired-looking woman with bleach-fried hair points him to the kitchen with frighteningly long nails. Dean ignores her aggressively popped bubble gum and heads through the doorway.

The kitchen is almost as empty as the dining room. There’s no chef in sight, just Gabriel washing dishes at a huge sink. Dean hesitates long enough for Gabriel to spot him when he turns to grab another stack of plates.

“Hi,” Gabriel says warily. Dean offers an awkward wave, then jerks his head toward a door he assumes leads out back.

“Can we talk?”

“Sure. Let me just...” Gabriel dries his hands on his apron and leads Dean out back. Dean notes that he looks more subdued than usual, both in posture and in dress. He’s wearing plain black pants under the apron, a grey shirt above, no bright colors to be seen. Dean wonders if it’s because he’s working or because he’s as miserable as Sam.

“So. You gonna tell me again how I better stay the hell away from your little brother? ‘Cause I gotta say, I think the message got through loud and clear last time,” Gabriel starts, leaning back against the wall. He’s watching Dean cautiously, but also curiously, like he doesn’t really think Dean is here to fight.

“No, I’m here to tell you to get your head out of your ass.” Dean thinks maybe he could have worded that a touch more politely, but then again, this is the guy making Sam mope around like someone stole his puppy.

“What are you talking about?” Gabriel asks, obviously confused.

“Sam. You and Sam. He’s obviously the best thing you’re ever gonna get, and you’re just throwing that away. ‘Cause you’re an idiot,” Dean adds, like an afterthought. Gabriel blinks at him.

“Thought you didn’t want me anywhere near him.”

“Yeah, well, that’s when I thought you were a creep. Now I know you’re not, and you’re making Sam miserable, and you’re making yourself miserable, and--”

“I’m doing this for Sam! I don’t want to-- to be holding him back. He’s eighteen years old and he could pretty much do anything he wanted at this point. I’m twenty-seven years old, Dean, and I’m not going anywhere. This is for the best.” Gabriel starts to push away from the wall, turning to go back inside, but Dean grabs his shoulder and pushes him back up against the brick.

“You’re the least mature twenty-seven year old I know, and my brother is so responsible he’s practically middle-aged. You’re perfect for each other.” Gabriel opens his mouth to argue, but Dean keeps going. “You make him have fun. He makes you wanna be stable, get somewhere in life. How is any of that a bad thing?”

Gabriel’s mouth slowly closes. He looks puzzled for a moment, then narrows his eyebrows at Dean.

“Have you been talking to my brother?” He looks so accusing that Dean almost wants to laugh at the sheer irony.

“That’s not the point here. You think about what I said about Sam, got it?”

Gabriel nods, still eyeing Dean suspiciously. Dean turns to walk away, but Gabriel stops him.

“Hey Dean. You mess with my little brother, I’ll hunt you down and... well, I probably won’t kick your ass.” Gabriel winks at him and disappears back into the diner, leaving Dean standing in the alley. 

***

Dean stares out at the pouring rain through the glass doors as he switches the sign from “Open” to “Closed”. The café is completely empty, no quiet page-turning or pen scribbling from the corner table Dean secretly refers to as "Cas's spot".

Dean spoke to Gabriel three days ago, and since then, he hasn't heard anything new from Sam. It seems as though Gabriel decided not to take Dean's advice after all. He can't help the twinge at the thought of Sam, sad and frustrated, having to live one room away from Gabriel for the rest of the year. Dean goes to clean the espresso machine while he tries to decide if it makes sense for them to find a new place. Maybe... Maybe if Sam gets a job, or if Dean takes on more hours, they'll be able to afford a place for just the two of them.

The door rattles behind Dean and he turns to see Castiel stumbling in from the rain, hair plastered to his forehead, coat slick with rain. His pale skin is wet, water running down his temples and over his lips in rivulets, and Dean's speechless for a moment. It doesn't help that Cas is grinning, his eyes alight with a feverish energy.

"I quit the TA position," Castiel announces, dropping his bag and walking straight towards Dean. "You were right, it was too much."

Cas is only a few feet away from Dean and he still hasn't found a way to respond. It doesn't seem to matter, because the next moment, Cas is right there, barely inches away, still smiling up at Dean like they're celebrating something only the two of them know about.

"Besides," Castiel adds, leaning ever closer, "I don't want anything distracting me from this."  
Cas's lips are wet and so cool Dean finds himself pressing closer, harder, sucking Castiel's bottom lip into his mouth to bring forth some warmth. He bites gently and is rewarded with the most delicious whimper, quickly followed by Castiel's body, chest to hips, crushing against his. Dean almost stumbles, but manages to catch himself and bring his arms up to wrap around Cas, one hand running over wet fabric to slide his fingers through silky, soaked hair.

Cas kisses like he's lost awareness of everything else, like Dean's the only thing that exists anymore and the way he clings to Dean's dark uniform has Dean grinding against him, struggling to get ever closer, ever tighter against him.

They break the kiss to breathe, Cas's grey blue eyes dark and hungry on Dean's mouth. He lifts his gaze to scan Dean's face, like he's making sure this is acceptable, that Dean isn't going to suddenly change his mind. Dean smiles at him.

"Yeah," he replies to Castiel's wordless question, and tugs him toward the break room.

Dean tries to pull Cas onto the ugly green couch with him, but Cas wriggles out of his grasp and pushes him down.

"I'm getting cold in these," Cas says, gesturing to his wet clothes. He slides out of his coat and folds it over the back of a nearby chair, then turns back to Dean as he starts unbuttoning his shirt. Dean opens and closes his mouth, sure he should be saying something, offering to help. He doesn't, just watches as deft, nimble fingers reveal clean, pale skin over graceful collarbones. By the time Cas's shirt is open from neck to waist, Dean's heart is thudding so hard he feels it in his throat. Castiel slips off his shirt and puts it aside. He turns back to Dean and gives him a soft smile, almost reassuring, before dropping his hands to his belt. Dean swallows hard.

Cas leaves his underwear on, which is probably good since Dean's not sure his blood pressure can take it. Dean reaches for Cas and he comes, climbs right into Dean's lap and drops his lips to Dean's with a quiet sigh. Dean's hands find their way to Cas's slim waist, the skin still wet and so, so soft. Castiel's briefs aren’t drenched like his outer clothes were, but they are a little damp, and clinging to Cas's skin in a way that has Dean pulling away from the kiss just to run his gaze down Cas's body. Castiel lets him look, completely unashamed.

Dean watches his own hands, big and dark with freckles, run over Cas's body, up from his hip to stroke along his jaw and back down again, past the obvious erection to grip Cas's thigh. Cas leans into the touch, pressing against Dean's palms like he can't get close enough, like he wants more, and Dean tugs him back down with a growl. Castiel's kisses are growing deeper, his movements sharper, hips rolling against Dean's more deliberately. Dean feels slim fingers on the button of his pants, then inside, dipping down to free his cock. He gasps into Castiel's mouth when Cas's hand tightens around him, a few slow pulls and then Cas is slipping his own underwear down, grinding their cocks together.

Dean drops his gaze to watch as Castiel strokes them together, gathering precome and slicking both their lengths. Castiel lets out a sharp moan when Dean brings his own hand to tangle with Cas's, both of them stroking together, tighter, faster, and Cas's hips are moving so sinuously above Dean, his body twisting and curling and captivating. Dean can't tear his eyes away, can't settle on one place to look: their cocks, sliding together through their interlocked fingers, the blush creeping up Cas's chest and along his cheeks, Cas's mouth, bitten red and swollen, lips parted as he pants. Castiel's eyes are on his, dark and desperate, and when Dean meets his gaze Cas bites his lips and comes, hips stuttering into Dean's grip. The sight alone would be enough to throw Dean over the edge, but the hot slick of Castiel's come all over Dean's cock and fist certainly doesn’t hurt. Dean tries to keep his eyes open as he comes, doesn't want to miss a moment of Castiel above him like this, messy and wet and so incredibly hot, but he finds himself lost in white hot pleasure.

When he opens his eyes, Cas is still in his lap, curled down to rest his head on Dean's chest. Dean wraps his arms around him and kisses the top of his head. It’s not until Cas starts to shiver that Dean remembers where they are. He rolls Cas off of him and goes to his locker to find his spare change of clothes.

“Wanna go home?” Dean asks as he throws Cas the clothes. Castiel’s muffled yes from beneath the shirt he’s pulling on makes Dean smile softly. He quickly schools his expression into something a little less sappy in time to see Cas’s now-dry hair, sticking up in every direction, emerge from the neck.  
Dean grabs his bag and waits for Castiel at the door. The sight of Cas, lips still red, cheeks still pink, hair still mussed and wearing Dean’s shirt and pants leaves Dean a little breathless, just for a moment. He recovers well, he thinks, holding open the door and offering his umbrella. 

He expects the walk home to be awkward, but it’s not. The rain is coming down too hard to really hold a conversation, so they huddle under the umbrella and speed-walk down the streets. Dean holds the umbrella while Cas gets his keys and they both stumble into the hallway, dropping shoes and coats and scrambling down the hall neither of them even bothering to check if anyone else is home.

Cas pulls Dean into his room and Dean goes willingly, lets Cas tug off his shirt and pants, returning the favor. They tumble into Castiel’s bed and Dean can’t think of a single reason not to wrap himself around Cas and make out like teenagers until they pass out. 

***

There's a soft knock, then Gabriel's voice on the other side of the door.

"Hey Sam? I made some food, you want some?"

Sam hesitates. This must be the token "let's be friends" gesture. Well, Sam's hungry and it does smell amazing. Lasagna, he guesses, and is reminded (painfully) of their first meal together.

"Yeah, be right out."

When he walks into the kitchen, Gabriel's just pulling the dish out of the oven. Sam was right: bubbly cheese, garlic and onion in the tomato sauce, perfectly crispy edges... Gabriel does make the best lasagna.

"So," Gabriel starts as he spoons a serving onto a plate for Sam. "I wanted to apologize."  
Sam waits a beat.

"For what?"

"Well, everything, really. I thought... Well I still sort of think I'm probably not the best person for you. Your brother and Cas think I'm okay, now, but---"

"Yeah, because it's definitely their business," Sam interjects, glaring at Gabriel.

"No, I know, it's not. That's what I wanted to tell you. It's not up to them who's good enough for you or not. It's not even up to me. I guess I was trying to protect you or something, and so was Dean, but you should be allowed to make these decisions for yourself. And I didn't let you do that, I decided for you. That's what I'm apologizing for. And also for being a dick about us getting together in the first place."  
Sam stares at him. He would've thought hearing all this would bring him some kind of satisfaction, knowing that he was right, but it doesn't. Nothing's changed.

"Okay. Well, I guess I'm glad you figured it out. Is that all?" Sam asks, abandoning his lasagna, the pit in his stomach heavy enough as it is. Gabriel stares.

"Well... Yeah. I mean, obviously, if that's not... if you don't want to..." Gabriel looks flustered, at a loss for words, and it's such an unexpected sight that Sam pauses.

"What? If I don't want to what?"

Gabriel swallows and shrugs, trying for casual and failing spectacularly.

"If you don't want to be with me. That's cool, I mean, like I said, it's up to you, but..."

Sam takes a step forward, then another.

"What are you saying, Gabe? You ended it, right?" Sam asks. He's starting to get it, though, what Gabriel wants. Doesn't mean he's going to make it easy for him. Gabriel squares his shoulders and meets Sam's eye.

"I'm saying I want to be with you. Date. And stuff. If you want."

It's not smooth, nothing like Gabriel's usual ease, but it makes Sam grin all the same.

"Yeah. Yeah, I want."

***

Epilogue:

The Impala’s engine roar is somehow louder in the freezing January air, but Sam finds it comforting enough to fall asleep for most of the trip. He’d stayed up last night, stomach twisting in knots of excitement at the prospect of seeing Gabriel again, of actually trying to make it work. 

They only have a few miles of road left before arriving when Dean clears his throat. 

“Hey. Hey Sammy. Wake up, I gotta talk to you.”

Sam grumbles but sits up. He’s pretty sure he knows what this is about, but he figures he can let Dean stumble through it first. 

“So,” Dean starts, then pauses awkwardly. “So, you know Castiel?”

Sam nods, fighting a grin. 

“He and I... We’ve been-- you know, hanging out and stuff. I-- Not, like, dating or anything, just--”

Sam lets out a peal of laughter and curls in on himself, clutching his stomach. 

“What? Sam! This isn’t funny, I’m trying to tell you something-- Would you stop laughing?” Dean’s earnest tone sends Sam into another fit of mirth and it takes him a few minutes to calm down. 

“Sorry,” Sam says, wiping his eyes and fighting down his smile. “It’s just... Dean, you guys are the least subtle people on the planet. You come home together every day and I can hear you sneak out your window into his. Hell, you come out of his room most mornings. I’m not an idiot.”

Dean blinks a few times. 

“So, you’re okay with it? You’re not mad that? ‘Cause I thought, since I got so mad at you about Gabriel, maybe--”

“Dude, I don’t care who you hang out with. The way I see it, this can only make our living situation less awkward. I mean, it can’t get worse than the past few months.”

Dean nods. Sam thinks he looks a little annoyed, probably at finding out he’s not as stealthy as he thinks, but he also looks immensely relieved. Sam reaches over to turn the music up and settles comfortably in his seat. They’re almost home.


End file.
